Task 3
Task: Rewrite one section of the novel you have read in class. ''(I will rewrite the complication.) ''Writing: In Johnny's view: It was a cold and unforgiving night. I didn't want to stay with my parents, and Ponyboy wasn't thrilled to see Darry. So both of us took off. We were hiding out in a park, when a blue mustang pulled up. Ponyboy and I exchanged looks. We knew exactly who they were. A cold and sickening shiver zipped through my spine, and the wind brushed my arms and stirred Ponyboy's hair. We I talked under our breath. What where the socs doing here? They got out and approached us. The only noise was their heavy footsteps, and the gentle blow of wind, silent, waiting for something to happen, the fist punch to be thrown, the first word to be spoken. I kept nervously shifting, a cold sweat creeping up on me. But this time I was ready. I would do whatever it took to defend myself. As they drew closer I could see them, stumbling and swaying. They laughed. Not a warm laugh though. A laugh of spite, and disgust, like a harsh whip cracking at your back. They stepped into the street light. They were clearly drunk. My heart was thumping in my ears. I couldn't talk because of the massive lump in my throat. Everything felt like it was moving quickly, but slowly at the same time. They started talking to us, and Ponyboy and I talked back, but carefully. They kept shooting out insults, and as bad as I felt, I didn't do anything. I could see Ponyboy was getting bright red, shaking with fury, like a volcano about to explode in a rage. They kept going, and PonyBoy and I kept shooting back. One of them swore at us and stepped forward. "You know what Greasers are" Said another one, snickering. "White trash with long hair!" I gasped under my breathe, and felt my body heat up. The fear I had before, was washed away by a destructive anger. I looked over and saw Ponyboy. He was physically shaking with rage. Growling, and tensing up. "You know what a Soc is?" he said through gritted teeth. "White trash with madras and mustangs!" He recoiled his head with venom and spat. "You could use a bath, Greaser" one hissed with anticipation. My heart skipped a beat, as one of them grabbed Ponyboy's head, and rammed it into the fountains water. I went to pull Ponyboy away, but I was shoved, and a kick slammed into my stomach. It felt like a sledge hammer, and I felt sick, gasping for breath. "They're going to kill him!" I thought. I was right. One tackled me, and I fell to the ground with a painful loud thump next to the fountain where Ponyboy was going more limp and was still being drowned. Thoughts of when I was first beat senseless in the parking lot rose up, but I shoved them away. As I saw Ponyboy's flailing and struggling growing weaker, a wave of rage rushed over me. I reached into my jacket, taking out my pocket knife. My mind raced. "Here goes nothing" I thought. But I was wrong, because something did go; my knife! One of the socs kicked the knife out of my hand. I turned over and screamed for help. A man walking through the park jumped, and saw Ponyboy's limp body, and the kids standing over us, like lions standing over their prey. He stared in horror. The same face Ponyboy made when he looked down at me in the parking lot. But he was there for me then. I couldn't do this to him, I owe him too much. I couldn't let him die. Tears started pouring into my eyes, as the man started to sprint, like a an antelope, escaping a lion. Maybe he was the socs next 'prey'. As he ran, he pulled out his cell phone. A few of the socs ran after him, but the rest started throwing out punches all across my body, twisting my joints, and clawing my skin. The pain was unbearable as I writhed in agony. I looked over. Ponyboy was completely limp, and my heart shuddered. But when the street light flooded in a bright and glorious light of red and blue, I knew it was the fuzz. I was happy to see them for once. I heard the socs cursing, and running off, but when they tried to get through the front gate, two officers with guns drawn stepped out, and roared at them to get back. They got on the ground, and a group of other officers came back with the rest of the socs that ran off. That walking through the park must have called the cops. Some paramedics took Ponyboy's limp body away. All I could look at was his pale, lifeless face. It made me sick. I was taken in, patched up, comforted, and fed, but I wasn't happy. A nurse walked into the room. She stood in grim silence. My heart twisted. "Your friend. He... Didn't make it." The nurse weakly cried. The world stopped. I didn't feel explosive. I just slouched. Ponyboy's grim fate waded through my mind. "And those kids, the ones that... That killed your friend. They pulled guns on the cops, and got away. We don't know where they are but-" Before she could continue I walked past her and out the door. I walked into the park with tears in my eyes, my mind weak. I looked at the knife that was kicked away from me, bent down and picked it up. The socs probably drove off in those expensive cars. I was going to track them down. And kill them. They were going to get what they deserved. But then a thought popped into my head. Dally; he had a gun in case anyone ever had to run away for some reason. I was going to get that gun, and give the socs what they deserved. They were going to pay with their lives. Click here to go back to the home page.